


Happy ever after

by Anuna



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Romance, bit of humor, tongue in cheek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:30:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anuna/pseuds/Anuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time they plan to get married, it all goes to hell. So it's best not to make plans at all. Written for be_compromised promptathon, for the following prompt: </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>I know it's a big trope to have them "pretend" to get married for a job but I'd love to see them TRY to get married for real. One thing and then another keeps getting in the way. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter that they don't have the piece of paper. They have each other and they have this strange life together (even when they aren't) and they're happy. Very happy.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>*dabs at eyes with hankie*</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy ever after

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lar_laughs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lar_laughs/gifts).



> I really have no excuse for this wagon of cheese. *g*

It's Coulson who causes it. He walks into the small meeting room one day and says they're supposed to pose as a married couple. Sure, why not. It's not the first time, and Clint grins at Natasha, which earns him an eyeroll that's prettier than it has right to be. 

But then Coulson places papers between them, and they're perfectly real looking marriage licenses with their actual names. The look that Natasha give Coulson is much less pretty than the one she just gave Clint. 

“If either of you ends up injured in some godawful part of the world, or even at home, it's best if you're a married couple for everyone who should demand such information,” Coulson says. 

“Really?” Clint asks. 

Coulson doesn't answer. He just smirks like he told himself a hilarious joke. 

 

*

It's Clint who doesn't leave it be. He calls her _Missus Barton_ when he wants to annoy her, and it usually earns him a smack upside the head, if she's feeling benevolent. (It also makes her grin, and those grins she tries to hide, but with Clint not many things go unnoticed). 

 

*

The other name for hell is Budapest. 

Clint is crouching behind a car, which is not the safest hiding place in the middle of crossfire, and Natasha is trying to distract too many people shooting at them, so he could run over to her. They need to get out of here, fast. He is injured and bleeding, and right now it's not bad, but it might become much worse, should they stay here for much longer. 

“Hey Barton,” she calls. He can't see her, but it's good to hear her voice. “I need to ask you a question!” She shouts over sounds of gunfire. 

“Better ask now!” he shouts back, well, _because_. He isn't completely convinced they'll both get out of this alive. 

“Will you marry me?” she shouts. 

“Will I – what?!”

“You heard me, Barton! Answer me,” she demands over shots. 

“Natasha, I -”

“It's really simple, Barton. Say yes, marry me later,” she is shooting fiercely and her words are carefully chosen. It's say yes, stay alive. 

“Fine!”

“Is that a yes?” 

“You better wear a damn fine dress, Romanoff!” he shouts back. 

*

Five hours later they're safe, they're mostly clean, and they're definitely naked. She's taken care of his wound, and she's taken care of him as well. Clint feels both sore and content and can't stop looking at her, so gloriously naked next to him. 

“You know,” he drawls, “I think we're doing this wrong way around,” he says. 

“Yeah? How so?” a small smile is playing on her lips. She's tracing patterns on his chest, along his cheeks. 

“First we got the papers, then we had a wedding night. Then you propose to me. See what I mean?”

She licks her lips and even though he's horribly tired, he wants to touch her again. He wants to touch her and never stop. 

“We gotta fix that sometime soon,” she says. 

*

 

First time they try to get married, they're sent on missions, separately. 

Coulson finds a simple white dress, and a nice suit laid out carefully on Clint's bed and makes sure nobody finds out about them. 

*

Second time they try to get married, there's a security breach. Clint is held hostage and beaten up. Natasha sits in her ruined white dress next to his hospital bed. 

Coulson puts the rings into his safe, next to a pack of Captain America trading cards. 

 

*

Third time they plan a wedding they ask Coulson to help out. He agrees, and he's got much better way about it, but then Natasha is sent to Russia, an evil alien demigod steals tesseract, steals Clint and kills Coulson. Everything bad that can happen, happens. 

At the end Natasha gets Clint back, or what's left of him. Maria Hill gives her a small box, with an awkward explanation, how Coulson wanted her to have those.

Few days later she sits on the edge of Clint's bed and touches him carefully. 

“For better or worse, in sickness or health,” she says and he looks at her, his eyes almost empty. He manages a tired, tired smile. 

“Missus Barton,” he whispers. 

“You'll get away with that one this time,” she says and kisses him. 

*

It's the most boring assignment Natasha can think of. Actually, it's worse than that. Who smuggles banned Stark weapons – on a rodeo? She half believes this has to be one big, lame joke. 

It's not, though. She's keeping an eye on Tony, who's having too much fun at the party. She hates the music, she hates the clothes she's wearing, and the way she looks like a country singer. The boots are good, though. She might like the boots. Just a little bit. 

“Hey there good lookin',” Clint approaches and she's about to smack him solely for enjoying this catastrophe. “Nice hat,” he says and tilts up the rim of her hat with his pointing finger. “You look like you could use a break.”

She rolls her eyes, but decides that he looks rather good in jeans, boots and plaid shirt. 

“Cowboy come and take me away,” she mocks. 

“Actually, that's precisely what I'm here for,” he answers and takes her by the hand. It's a surprise, so she doesn't have time to protest properly. 

He takes her outside the goddamn tent and towards some kind of wooden building that might even be a barn. The music, cheesy and sentimental, and everything she hates about country, still reaches them. Clint has a funny expression on his face. He looks at her, somehow excited but wordless and she instantly becomes nervous. 

“What?”

“Marry me,” he says. 

“What?!”

“Right now -”

“Clint -”

He grabs her hands. If she wasn't annoyed and confused and if his eyes weren't so – so - _something_ she can't even describe, she would know what to say and what to do. Right now she just stares into his eyes because she can't look away. 

“Right now, because whenever we plan it, something goes to hell,” he speaks nervously, and fumbles with his hand, pulls something out of his pocket. Two pieces of thin rope. 

“Clint -” she says, but for some unfathomable reason her throat is tight when he looks at her with that smile that's spreading over his face. She keeps looking at him, someone inside the party tent is singing “I will always love you” in a voice that reminds of Dolly, and she can't explain it, but her hand falls into his open palm. 

She watches as he takes her hand, so delicately, then ties a ribbon around her ring finger. 

“With this ring I thee wed,” he says into her ear, still holding her hand, and then he recites whole damn thing, entire wedding vow. “Your turn,” he says then. 

She does it. Her hands shake slightly, but he pretends he doesn't notice. There's a fine little ribbon on his ring finger, and words, she doesn't know them by heart, but he helps her (he always helps her with things like these.)

Then he kisses her. It's such sweet kiss, she stands on her toes and hugs him around his neck; and her hat falls on the ground. 

“Do you want to dance, Missus Barton?” he asks. She laughs, shakes her head, pokes his shoulder. Then she lets him pull her into his arms as the song changes.


End file.
